


Of Snakes and Mangoes

by RainingPrince



Series: Of Crows and Angels [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Childbirth, Childbirth (you can skip ahead), Children, Crows, Fantasy Politics, Friendship, Royalty, Sending a baby away, Snakes and other critters, Trans Character, description of childbirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 23:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20054395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainingPrince/pseuds/RainingPrince
Summary: The world was in turmoil, and the Havorymn family was facing the threat of extinction. The plan was to hide the child, no one even knew the queen had been pregnant, save for her husband, her sister, and a handful of Doctors. As soon as they had proof of pregnancy, they whisked her away for a “Vacation” and she was quietly kept hidden as her belly grew.The queen set the latest letter down on the desk and turned to the bassinet. The child was asleep, her breath came in shallow gasps but she didn’t appear to be in any distress. The woman stood and bent over the child. “I'm sorry,” Ygraine whispered, running a finger over the blankets as softly as she could manage.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE NOTE:  
The first prologue is merely setting the stage, there are nearly only original characters in this chapter, but the second prologue is all about Aziraphale and Crowley so please don't be confused or turned off after just the first bit.
> 
> WARNING:  
The first Prologue features a description of childbirth. If you expect that to be an issue, I recommend maybe reading the first four paragraphs, stop at "She was on her knees" and skip down to the first line break.

In a convent off the river, tucked under the Briven mountains, something was afoot. There were guards stationed as inconspicuously as possible, and screaming could be heard coming from a room just below the sanctuary. The guards fidgeted nervously.

Part of the reason this convent had been chosen was its quiet, isolated location. Few guests passed through the mountains, especially in the dead of winter. People generally preferred to stay in the warmer cities, or would have traveled south to Gattenfall months ago.

The woman who was currently screaming, just so happened to live in Gattenfall, and she found herself missing the heat and the sunshine. She briefly thought, she might have liked to feel the sun on her face while she was giving birth. It felt symbolic, in a way.

Instead, she was sequestered away in this drafty abbot, hidden under the floorboards, in the least sunny place she could think of.

! She was on her knees, pillows and linens piled around her, blood pouring down her legs, while women she had known for months now held her upright and stroked her hair. Her entire body hurt; from the top of her head, dizzy with the screaming, to her knees pressed into thin linen layered over the hard cobblestone floor. She could feel individual pebbles and tiny sharp rocks on the floor just under the fabric and she knew her knees would be covered in tiny craters when this was over.

There was a lot of breathing, a lot of talking, and a lot of movement in the room, as the nuns fetched more hot water and tried as best they could to be supportive.

Ygraine was ready for this to be over.

With a final push, and a scream that would have curdled milk, the baby finally slipped free. One of the nuns caught it in a fresh towel and immediately wrapped it up, cuddling it close to her chest and immediately starting to dab the blood away. It was screaming, almost as loud as its mother had, and its little hands were clawing desperately at the air.

The mother collapsed.

The nuns helped her to lay down, propping her up on the pile of pillows behind her. They cleared the dirty linen away to replace it with a new one, and carefully, one of them cut the cord.

As soon as Ygraine was safely settled into the pillows, she reached out for the child, and it was placed into her arms with delicacy and reverence. It was still covered in vernix, but she could already tell that the baby had a faint swath of ginger hair. She held the baby for all of three minutes, before she felt a little faint, and the nurses took the baby to get cleaned up. She slept for half an hour, until the Placenta was ready to pass, and afterwards she was ready to hold the child again.

* * *

“Can I see her?” She asked, and the nurse who had been dabbing her face with a cool washcloth suddenly looked a bit nervous.

“I, ah, yes of course!” The nun said and got up. She left the room.

When the nurse returned, it was with a small host in tow, half a dozen sisters crowded into the doorway as the Matron approached the mother, the baby in her arms and a somewhat bewildered expression painted on her features.

“Is it a girl?” Ygraine asked, accepting the tightly wrapped bundle into her arms and pressing her mouth to it’s hair. “I’ve always wanted a daughter.” She inhaled deeply.

“Well, ah, your ladyship.” One of the nuns began and was hushed by two separate voices.

The mother looked up, a little concerned about the tone of the interrupted comment. “Is it a boy, then?” A boy was fine by her as well.

“Your ladyship,” Matron breathed. The expression on her face was one of awe, but also deep concern. It was beautiful news, truly a blessing; but it also heralded the potential for dire consequences. “I think she’s something else entirely.”

“Something, else.” The mother breathed, absently playing with tiny fingers. She knew what the Matron meant, it wasn’t unheard of. However, there were plenty in the world who would have plenty to say about it if they ever found out. For a fraction of a second, Ygraine was almost glad that the child wouldn’t grow up in Gattenfell, the scrutiny could have been catastrophic.

The baby yawned, coughed gently, and opened its eyes to look at its mother.

Its eyes were a breathtaking hazel gold.

* * *

Ygraine spent as much of the time she had left at the convent with the child. She gently held the baby every way she could think of, swaddling her, pressing kisses to her face and singing sweet lullabies. She taught a few of her favorites to the nuns, asking that they make sure these tunes be passed on to the baby's new home.

It broke her heart to know that the child would have to live apart from her, it frightened her even more that the baby was to be handed off to a complete stranger, she wouldn’t even know where. She wouldn’t even get to visit.

It was the only way, she told herself, to ensure the safety of her child.

She had exchanged letters with her husband over the months of her solitude, their correspondence a mixture of sadness, politics and the occasional poem scribbled on the back. Samuel was not what one would call a romantic or particularly affectionate man. However he had always had a soft spot for Ygraine, and he occasionally surprised her with gifts or sweet words. They were not in love, not as such, and their arranged marriage had been an awkward affair at best; but they had come to a comfortable understanding long ago.

Samuel Havorymn, King of the Scorch, had stayed behind when Ygraine left. He needed to ensure the bloodline had a representative on the throne. When she left, there had been reliable information about spies in the castle, and a plot to overthrow the bloodline. They couldn’t risk it getting out that the queen was with child. She had already had two miscarriages and was starting to worry that she wasn’t able to have a child at all. If anything were to happen, they may not get another chance.

The world was in turmoil, and the Havorymn family was facing the threat of extinction. No one even knew about the baby, save for her husband, her sister, and a handful of Doctors. As soon as they had proof of pregnancy, they whisked her away for a “Vacation” and she was kept hidden as her belly grew.

Things in Gattenfell weren’t much better than they had been when she left. There had been not one but two open attempts on Samuel’s life, an incident where her sister had gotten violently ill and they suspected but couldn’t prove foul play, and an incident where someone broke into the stables to try to steal the King’s favored steed. The thief in question had nearly escaped capture when the horse had thrown him off into the mud and nickered loudly.

The queen set the latest letter down on the desk and turned to the bassinet. The child was asleep, her breath came in shallow gasps but she didn’t appear to be in any distress. The woman stood and bent over the child. “I'm sorry,” Ygraine whispered, running a finger over the blankets as softly as she could manage.

She regretted that it had come to this. She dreaded leaving the next day. She wanted to sob, scream, and rake her hands through her hair. That night she couldn’t sleep, she stayed awake to look at the baby as long as she could. She sang to her, fed her, and memorized every inch of the child. Every freckle, every spot. From her bright searching eyes; to her dark red hair, which was already growing in; to the tiny freckles covering every inch of her skin. This baby was hers.

But only for tonight.

* * *

When first light showed its face over the forest and hit the side of the mountains, Ygraine was already in the carriage, her face streaked with tears but underneath a perfect visage of empty. She fell asleep shortly after leaving, the last thoughts on her mind were those golden eyes.


	2. Of Snakes and Mangos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through the window, he caught a glimpse of pale blonde hair, and then there was a face looking out at him. A young boy, probably only a year or so younger than himself, with large pale eyes in startling contrast with his dark skin, and a look of wonder on his face.  
Crowley followed the boy’s gaze and looked down at his feet, but all he saw was water. When he looked back up, the face was gone. He wondered what the stranger had been looking at.  
He watched for a couple moments more as the carriage continued in the direction of the garden Crowley had just escaped. And then he hurried again down the river because his feet were starting to chill.

Tiny feet were scrabbling along the cramped path between the bushes, the panicked breath of a 6-year-old rang loudly in the relative silence of the garden. Excited barking could be heard close-by, and the effort to run redoubled.

Categorically, it had been a miracle that Crowley had gotten this far at all, his little legs and lungs were burning and he had only narrowly slipped past a large window without being seen. He desperately hoped his pursuers hadn’t seen him.

“Over there, by the hedge!” He heard someone shout, and he swore. Had anyone been listening, they would have found it quite amusing to hear this particular word dropping out of a mouth so young with such practiced grace.

Finally, he found his exit: A tiny little hole in the shrubbery, just big enough to squeeze through. He didn’t have time to squeeze.

With a desperate prayer, Crowley threw all his momentum onto one foot, turning his body to the side and prayed his cargo would survive the ordeal. He pulled all his limbs into tight formation and slipped through the hole in the hedge with frankly astounding precision. He still managed to scrape his upper arm and cheek, but it was much better than a broken bone.

Checking his satchel, he confirmed that his cargo was still inside, and then took off running. There was a lot of barking still, however the dogs in question were much bigger than a skinny six-year-old, and their handlers even more so.

Success.

Once Crowley was a good deal away, he made his way to the river to assess his plunder. When he reached the calm little spot in the shade, he set his bag down and began to wash his clothing off, hoping that a clean child would look less conspicuous than a very muddy one when the officers came looking for the thief. When that was done, he carefully opened the satchel to look inside.

There were several mangoes, apples, pears and a couple other fruits, of which Crowley wasn’t even sure if they had names. They were bruised, and one small mango had lost a chunk of skin and was oozing unattractively against the inside of the bag. Otherwise, they were in decent shape. He perked up, proud of himself and his fine work today. He picked himself up. He had stayed still for too long, and took off down the river to hide his scent from the dogs.

He hadn’t gotten very far when he overheard wooden wheels and hoofbeats, and he looked up to see he had reached the bridge. Approaching from the direction of the village was an ornate carriage of the sort that Crowley had only seen a handful of times before. It was made of pale wood, with golden vines and blue flowers painted around the door. It was also bigger than any other carriage he’d seen previously.

Through the window, he caught a glimpse of pale blonde hair, and then there was a face looking out at him. A young boy, probably only a year or so younger than himself, with large pale eyes in startling contrast with his dark skin, and a look of wonder on his face.

Crowley followed the boy’s gaze and looked down at his feet, but all he saw was water. When he looked back up, the face was gone. He wondered what the stranger had been looking at.

He watched for a couple moments more as the carriage continued in the direction of the garden Crowley had just escaped. And then he hurried again down the river because his feet were starting to chill.

* * *

Not three days later, Aziraphale saw the strange boy again.

He had asked to go to the woods, accompanied by two of his many cousins and two guards who looked like they would rather be anywhere other than babysitting duty.

Uriel and Amox played with wooden swords, pretending to be pirates, their battle cries and the crack of their swords ringing through the air for quite some distance.

Initially, Aziraphale had requested to go alone, but Uriel and Amox had apparently spent a lot of time in the woods already, they knew it well, so the three of them had been encouraged [read: ordered] to go together. This was… less than ideal, as Aziraphale’s intention had all along been to find a quiet spot to read. Which was not exactly possible next to a pair of loudly arguing pirates.

He steeled himself, eyeing the guards out of the corner of his eye. He had noticed the both of them had settled against two nearby trees and were casually talking about something he could not overhear. They glanced around now and again, to check the kids were still present, but spent more of their time looking at the grass or each other.

He waited until one of the guards paused, looked the children up and down for signs of distress, nodded, and turned back to his conversation.

Aziraphale took off.

He didn’t go very far, and he carefully kept track of the direction of the manor in his head. He may not be very good at people, but his sense of direction and his passion for reading were, in his own opinion, his two best qualities.

Once the sound of wooden clacking was far enough away, the blonde found himself by a babbling brook. The water was quiet, a late autumn trickle left after the heat of summer, so the brook was narrower this time of year. He found himself a nice log upon which to sit (a mistake he would pay for hours later when his governess saw the state of his crisp light trousers) and cracked the book open.

He hadn’t been there very long, or, so he thought, when he heard a twig snap and there was suddenly movement in his immediate vicinity.

Without thinking, Aziraphale snapped the book shut loudly, shoved it behind himself, and stood at attention. He heard a bird cry, a panicked flapping of wings. His little face screwed up with shame and a hint of disappointment, and he waited with his eyes shut tight. The scolding never came.

Instead, there was another soft sound, this time a ruffling of feathers, and Aziraphale opened his eyes to look around.

There he was standing just across the brook, a shock of dark red hair, frozen in place, staring straight at Aziraphale, his posture that of a startled deer.

Carefully, both children relaxed.

It took Aziraphale exactly 6 and a quarter seconds to notice that there was a crow settled on the other boy’s shoulder, he assumed this was the animal which had made the sound a few seconds ago. He wondered, just for a moment, why the bird had decided this scrawny redhead was an acceptable perch and was not, like most birds he had encountered previously, afraid of people. Perhaps it was just this one person, he guessed, and left it at that.

“I’ve seen you before,” It slipped out of his mouth, but as soon as it did he remembered vividly. “You’re the boy in the water.”

A slight scowl tugged at the other boy’s features, but it was gone so quickly Aziraphale wasn’t even sure it had ever been there in the first place. “What’s it to you?”

“Oh,” Aziraphale suddenly realized that his ogling the other day might have come across as rude. This was a problem which frequently crossed his path, and he was starting to become quite adept at recognizing it. “Oh I do apologize. It’s just that, I’ve never had a chance to play in a river myself, I was just wondering what it would be like.”

The other boy frowned again. This time it wasn’t a scowl, though, it was a thoughtful frown. “You’ve never played in the river?” He repeated. “Where do you live that you’ve never been able to play in the river?” The crow on the other’s shoulder cawed softly, and he reached his hand up to give it a light scritch under the chin.

“I come from a city where the river is too vast to play in,” Aziraphale said, a little dejected. “There are boats and bridges, but nowhere to swim.”

The other boy regarded him for a long moment, still petting the bird on his shoulder. “Well, come on then.” He said suddenly, and took off down the brook in the direction Aziraphale had come from earlier.

“Come where?” The blonde asked, taking a moment to process the invitation before his legs finally moved.

“Down to the river, I’ll show you the best spots to wade and look for shiny rocks.” The crow on the redhead’s shoulder flew away, but he didn’t seem to mind.

* * *

They played in the river for a good half hour before Aziraphale was shivering. It wasn’t a particularly cold day, but it was reaching the end of autumn and he wasn’t accustomed to the sensation.

Afterwards, they had run through a large field around the edge of town, chasing a cat, throwing rocks, his new friend even caught a snake. Aziraphale had been so startled he had shut down, refusing to touch it for several minutes.

He had noticed though, after a short while, that the snake was not as angry as one might expect a snake to be after its day had been so rudely interrupted by two young children. It was quite calm, in fact, and it slithered comfortably up the redhead’s arm while he giggled.

It had taken a significant effort to psyche himself up to actually pet the snake, but once Aziraphale had, he couldn’t help but marvel at the smooth scales, and the way its’ muscles rippled gently across his skin.

When it started to get dark, the other boy asked Aziraphale where he was supposed to get home to. When the blonde had replied “Hollyanne Manor” his companion had nearly dropped the stick he had been carrying.

“Do-do you know how to get back?” He asked, a little nervously.

Aziraphale looked around from where they were wandering down a dirt road not far from the village. He had never been this close to a village before, he had spent all his life in the city. Far from farms and brooks and snakes. Gathering his thoughts, Aziraphale pointed in the vague direction he remembered the river being.

The other smiled, and pushed Aziraphale’s hand just a couple inches to the right. “You were close.” He said. “Here, I’ll walk you past the river, but past that you’re on your own.”

When they reached the river, Aziraphale suddenly realized that he had never truly had a friend before. Sure, there were children in his city, and there were all of his cousins and siblings and the nobles who would come to play. But he had never had this much fun with any of them. And it hurt his heart to realize that he would miss this strange kid, who seemed to get along with animals and taught him how to roll his pants up to play in the water.

He also realized that he was going to be in a LOT of trouble.

When his companion stopped, just by the corner of the hedgerows, Aziraphale turned to him and said, “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“I’m going home in a few days, but after today I doubt I’ll be allowed outside again. They have probably been looking everywhere for me.” As if to prove his point, a trumpet sounded not far off, and both boys noticed the shouting coming from the other end of the grounds. The redhead shivered and looked ready to bolt when the dogs started barking. “I just wanted to thank you for introducing me to the snakes, and the birds. I might be back in a few years, or maybe next year if my Mother will allow it. Maybe we could, play together some more?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He was a little distracted, but Aziraphale was pretty sure he meant it. “I should go,” The redhead murmured, his golden eyes flitting in the direction of the river. “It was... really nice to meet you.”

Aziraphale smiled. As he watched the other trot off toward the river, and the sound of the search hounds got closer, he realized that the two of them had never actually exchanged names. He was just about to call out, when one of the scent hounds spotted him, and the overwhelming energy of the search party came sweeping around the corner of the gate. He was quickly overwhelmed by shouting; some demanding to know where he had been, or if he was okay, or just exactly what he had managed to do to his trousers. By the time he got a chance to look back in the direction he had come from, the other was gone.

* * *

It took Aziraphale a couple of days to realize he had completely forgotten about his book. In fact, he had no idea where it could have gone, he had been so caught up with his new friend that it had simply slipped through the cracks. He searched his memory to figure out where it may have gone, but eventually he gave up. By then, he was already well on his way back home to the palace, and there was not much he could do about it now.

* * *

Two days after their chance encounter at the brook, Crowley was headed back home the same way he had been before, when he overheard a conversation. He looked over and spotted three crows circling something near the log. As he got closer, the crows looked up at him, one of them spoke softly, and gently nudged the object with its beak. The birds scooted out of the way just enough for Crowley to pick it up and examine it.

It was a book, the cover a soft mossy green with unfamiliar symbols on the front. Crowley frowned, opening it up, and took a look inside.

There were many words, in an unfamiliar dialect, not that Crowley was very adept at reading in his native language either. But, every few pages, there was an illustration to break up the monotony.

The pictures were beautiful, they depicted waterfalls with pools, and people with fish tails instead of legs. There were images of tiny people with wings like dragonflies, and huge lizards which could spit fire from humongous jaws. Crowley was transfixed, showing the pictures to the birds. Eventually, he realized it was too dark to keep looking, he gently placed the book into his bag and went home.

Late that night, by the light of a candle, Crowley came across an image in the book which truly shocked him. Near the back of the book was an illustration of a creature with soft, curly hair. It had huge, white wings, dark skin with a dusting of gold, and above its head a ring of golden light. In the image, Crowley could just make out a couple of symbols he recognized. Carefully, he sounded them out loud.

“A-n-g-el.”

It looked just like the boy he had met by the brook.

"Angel" he murmured to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote two prologues for a larger fic which involves a complex plot, arranged marriages, complications of all sorts, royalty, and some gender feels, please feel free to leave feedback and if you're interested in beta-reading I could always use the support. I wrote this in about 4-6 hours ending at 7:30am so I do not expect this to be perfect and I may fidget with it for a bit.


End file.
